


The Courier and the Machine

by ValentinesValentine (UnfinishedProject)



Series: Tequila Times [2]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: F/M, Hook-Up, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Robot Sex, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:08:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnfinishedProject/pseuds/ValentinesValentine
Summary: Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On by Jerry Lee Lewis
Relationships: Female Courier/Fisto
Series: Tequila Times [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701238
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	The Courier and the Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' On by Jerry Lee Lewis

_"Please assume the position."_

Six sure as hell was glad to come alone. _Come alone_ — well maybe not so much alone given the reprogrammed protectron buzzed behind her for the past hour or so. 

"That'll do," she managed to utter the words finally, "report to the Atomic Wrangler. James Garret is your new owner." 

* * *

A sex robot was a peculiar request, the least likely she could fulfill — but she's met with more outlandish or outright creepy things back in Reno. The map of her Pip-Boy marked a building in outer Freeside that once belonged to a so-called Cerulean Robotics — probably her best and only chance within city limits. The place was ran down just like she expected, only a handful of critters inhabiting the building; making quick work of them.

The cold already rose goosebumps on her skin, the quiet and darkness only keeping her on the edge more. She's been through most of the building that hasn't caved in when she found charging pods of sorts — she's never been a technical genius nor did she care what their name was. The only thing that mattered that there's been a pod still occupied — not yet a success in itself. She typed away on the nearby terminal, for a change not password protected, sorting through the different preset personality models. It seemed unlikely to find a designation for what she came for; construction worker, _no_ , medical bot, _also no_ , law enforcement, _not this time_. 

She pondered over a few options, settling on _personal recreation_ — if anything came close to what James, or his clients, was looking for, this one had to be it. Her fingers drummed against the terminal while she waited for the programming to load — it didn't take long for Primm Slimm to switch designations, it couldn't be that much either. If she'd finish in time, maybe there would be enough time to make good on her promise to Julie, even. 

"Fully Integrated Security Technetronic Officer active and reporting for duty." _Well, that doesn't really sound like pleasure._ She looked at the terminal, checking if maybe she just made a mistake when making the selection — the highlighted words corresponding with the desired personality. Perhaps it was malfunctioning after hundreds of years in standby but in any case, it needed a new name; and quick. 

"That is a mouthful. Let's shorten it to Fisto." It might be giving a more aggressive and misleading assumption of its services — if they worked as intended to begin with — but it was oddly fitting. _Ha, fitting_ — Six chuckled at her own joke which really wasn't funny at all but she's been getting close to the point of not giving a care about anything. Hell, she's been looking for a sex robot for fuck's sake — _now that, that was pure genius._

"Yes ma'am. Fisto reporting for duty." It was a good sign that it reacted positively, taking to its new name at once. Though it wasn't yet indicative of proper functioning — which she wasn't exactly sure how to test. She could've just passed it on to the Garrets without making sure; she'd just probably need to make sure never to return once the issues are discovered. "Please assume the position." 

Her eyes widened at the assertiveness and she hesitated in her reply. On one hand, that was exactly the ride she needed to decide its functionality. On the other though, an abandoned lab wasn't on her bucket list of locations for sex — nor were repurposed robots, to be honest. _Though why not? At least she could be certain that this didn't came with strings attached._

"I suppose I should test you out before I hand you to the Garrets..." Clearing off a workbench, she started to remove her apparel; laying the gun down by the Pip-Boy. The leather straps followed a little haphazardly and she struggled to peel off the vault suit while balancing on one leg, refusing to stand barefoot in the dirt. The whole of it was all kinds of wrong even though she had her fair share of escapades with people of all walks of life — except for ghouls as it was hard to come by one who was intact where it mattered most; not to mention the probability of ending up with an extra appendage by the end. Not like she had qualms against them — it was more of a wrong time, wrong place kind of deal. 

She heard Fisto buzz about behind her, getting closer as arms extended to her both sides. Naked save for the boots, she's been leaning over the workbench slightly. She had a preference for facing her partners but the though of watching a robot that lacked features to display emotions or probably would not take pleasure from the act was creeping her out more than anything about the current situation — it was easiest to keep her eyes closed. 

The building was already cold but her shiver was anticipatory in part, building up to a quick jerk of her body as the fingers brushed against her skin. Smooth; the metal was smoother than she expected and warmer as it brushed against her ribcage — though it was still clunky compared to a human, it wasn't unpleasant. It took time for her body to adjust to the rigidity of the robot, not quite melding against her own. Her mind was still clear, enough to make comparisons between her current partner and those from the past, to come up with all sorts of differences — but she's been already reacting to the stimulation. 

It was just a soft hum for now, rolling from her lips and dying out in the void of the lab. The robot took it as encouragement, the claw-like fingers tightening their grip on her tits; pulling another of her soft sounds as it massaged her. It was slow, like everything a protectron did, with intensity precisely calculated and applied based on whatever arbitrary data it collected — how it worked soon becoming an insignificant question. 

"That's all you've got, robot?" It wasn't bad, far from it given how it got her purring like cat with so little — but not yet fulfilling the role it'd be cast into. More taunts died on her lips as something extended out between her legs, tensing her body that warranted a _'Please relax. I am programmed for your pleasure.'_ in the same monotone of the protectrons. Leaning back, she let the robot take most of her weight — the extension probing around, spreading her folds apart. 

She jerked away on instinct though hardly getting an inch forward — the vibration was unlike anything she experienced. A couple of deep breaths and she was relaxing back against the protectron again, her sounds mixing with the hum of the robot; the sensations now building up feelings she's been more than familiar with. She's been wound up tight already, having come so close to relief in Novac after who know how many nights spent alone — yet only now reaching her breaking point. 

Whatever the robot's been doing to her was enough to get her going, to get her unceremoniously beg for more — too late to tweak the settings. She ground down against it no matter how wrong it felt; way past the point where she'd question her sanity or the work Doc Mitchell did. There was another protrusion finding its way between her legs, cold even in the cool of the building and slick. It had a more distinct shape; though solid, lacking texture. Six bit down on her lip, refraining from sudden movements — that artificial cock feeling like something that could just as easily hurt as please her. 

The robot displayed a surprising amount of caution, more than many of her human partners before even — letting her ease back against him rather. She was slick on her own but it helped greatly that its cock was coated with a liquid of sorts — what exactly, she'd rather not know. Strained moans rolled from her lips as she used the robot's stillness to adjust, circling her hips when feeling its body flush against her ass. It didn't fill her perfectly but still better than most; its cock a size that was hard to come by in the wasteland — what with all the radiation, one would expect effects for both side of the scale. 

By the time the robot picked up any speed and the intensity of the vibrations increased from faint flutters, Six was leaning over the workbench, supporting herself on forearms. It probably didn't look sexy and it sure as hell didn't feel sexy — but it was doing a thorough job. It was quicker, maybe even rougher than her past partners — but it was all physical, just a means to an end. Still, it was enough to get her to moan, the sounds soon mixing into an indistinguishable mess with the workbench banging against the walls and the buzz of the robot — a constant reminder that it was just a piece of technology. 

She let it do its thing, keeping herself upright even though it became exponentially more difficult with her whole body rocking back and forth with the robot's thrusts and thighs quivering. Instead, she fantasized of a nice brunette; toned but not too burly, someone who knows how to make a girl feel awesome. The steady rhythm — something humans never achieved no matter how she said it — built the pressure ever higher, teasing her to a breaking point; blanking for a moment as pleasure overtaken her. 

Moans turned into broken sobs and heavy panting, the artificial cock still pumping in and out of her, drawing out the sensations as she trembled. It would've been nice if she weren't overly sensitive — abstaining for so long as she did was doing just as much good to her as bad. She took a shaky breath, slumping over the cold surface of the workbench the moment the protectron pulled back — jarring yet pleasant against her heated, sweaty body. If she'd had any dignity left, she'd be finding it creepy that the robot still stood behind her, no doubt its visor disinterestedly observing her exposed backside — but as it was, Six barely had the strength to stay awake. _Settings are for James to figure out — there was no way she had stamina to test the new tweaks._

"Numbness will subside in several minutes. Awaiting further orders." Six only managed a groan in response, slowly pushing herself up — she was still a little unstable; a mentat would probably help. She cursed at herself, patting down her leather pieces — she had to forget it in her pack now out of all times. _Several minutes then._ Not like she had anything to do; after all, she just promised help with two addicts, procuring a sex robot — though that was only unfulfilled for a lack of articulate speech from her part — and of course, the pressing issue of a delivery-gone-wrong. 

Dressing was more difficult than getting out of her clothes; limbs going into wrong holes, wobbling and the spandex sticking to her skin just about anywhere. It was a struggle to put on the straps on a normal day, now feeling like a damn puzzle made up of snakes. There was another groan before she just threw it over her shoulder, wearing it like a bundle of ropes ranchers back west did and turned to securing the Pip-Boy back on — the locks one hell of a lot easier. Six's been as prim and proper such an adventure allowed when she turned back to Fisto. 

"That'll do," she managed to utter the words finally, "report to the Atomic Wrangler. James Garret is your new owner."


End file.
